


Poison

by Delphi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Begging, Drama, Emotional Manipulation, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-31
Updated: 2012-07-31
Packaged: 2017-11-11 03:14:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/473898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delphi/pseuds/Delphi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neither of them have said it—yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Poison

_Please._

He can picture the way the word would look on Severus's lips. The sneer before the quiver of surrender. He imagines the way it would feel against his skin, breathed out in a rush or muffled against his shoulder.

The sound, however, eludes him. Would it be harsh and clipped, forced out through Severus's teeth? Or would it ease from him on the back of a heated moan? 

Sometimes it seems that what Albus wishes to hear lies locked inside a puzzle box beneath Severus's breastbone. The pieces are crude and obvious. A dank rowhouse with thin, damp walls. A mean and petty mother. A childhood sweetheart who was everything good in the world by comparison. A mundane father full of impotent rage who has ensured that Severus is fiercely attracted to powerful men. 

It would be a simple thing to unlock it. The almost violent teasing his hands bestow upon Severus is no honest attempt. All it earns is clenched fists and an arching back. When his mouth pauses in its generosity just as Severus nears his peak, the word bitten back is coarser and far less satisfying. 

He knows what it would take. A hand combing gently through Severus's hair. A warm, approving smile. A whisper in his ear that everything is going to be all right. That he is brave. That he is Albus's own. 

If he were a very slightly crueler man, he could find out exactly what it sounds like when Severus Snape begs.

* * *

He could make the old man beg for it. This is something Severus feels the need to reassure himself every now and again, when he is sick with desire. 

For all that it is always him who initiates, him who climbs the stairs to the headmaster's office in the late hours of the evening and fidgets awkwardly while dispelling the invariable assumption that it is business rather than a social call that brings him, for all that, it is not only his weakness that their trysts indulge.

He has seen the quickness of Dumbledore's hands as they reach for him, making short work of his buttons and yet never able to resist slipping inside to touch naked skin before the job is done. He has heard the unfeigned pleasure of the old man's murmurs. He has felt, at times, the press of a brow against his back.

And afterwards, when Severus wishes only to sleep, Dumbledore is bright-eyed and in good spirits, as if their embraces have enlivened him. As if Severus has given him something vital. Thus, it only stands to reason that if Severus stayed away—and he could, he can, if he really wished to—then Dumbledore would take that step, those hundreds of steps from the tower to the dungeon and seek what he needs.

One day, Severus thinks, he will have the fortitude to refuse his own hunger, and Albus Dumbledore will come to him on his knees.

He can almost hear it. 

_"Severus, please."_


End file.
